


Do Not Eat In Hell

by Nessotherly



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Gothic, I Don't Even Know, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Hellenistic Religion & Lore), M/M, Post-Kingdom Hearts III, Sort Of, Ten Years Later, Twenty-something Characters, UST, consent is important, not detailed, so much UST, what even is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 16:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18553879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nessotherly/pseuds/Nessotherly
Summary: Riku's mother told them of Hades and Persephone, but Riku had some issues with the tale. When the time comes for him to make a choice, he makes sure Sora does too.





	Do Not Eat In Hell

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Timpini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timpini/gifts).



> This fic is a gift for the lovely Cori, aka Timpini! This has been written for the 2019 SoRiku Eater Bunny Gift Exchange event. Thank you so much Plants for organising such a lovely event<3 
> 
> I am sorry it turned out to be so gloomy and weird, but these idiots just started acting of their own will. I apologise for how gothic it turned out to be. 
> 
> Also, I am not a native speaker and I didn't have the time to have this OS beta'd, so I apologise in advance for whatever mistakes my poor french eyes could not detect.

Sora was already dozing off, his brows furrowed as he struggled to keep his eyes open so as to hear the ending of the story. Both Riku and Kairi knew he wouldn’t last long. They were all huddled up together on Riku’s couch; it had previously been stretched out into a bed for the three little kids who’d jumped excitedly on it, promising each other they wouldn’t sleep for the entire night, only to drop on the ridiculous amount of cushions they’d hoarded with their eyes half closed, battling wave after wave of yawns.

“… she’d caught his eyes a few weeks before. To him, she was the most beautiful creature to have ever graced the earth. Her brown hair caught the light of the sun every time the wind rouse up, and her smile alone sufficed to warm up the nature around her. Flowers grew everywhere her dainty feet touched the ground. Soon enough, Hades fell deeply, madly in love.”

Kairi giggled at that, and Sora’s lips stretched into a little smile — his eyes were already close but still, he was hanging out to every word Riku’s mother spoke.

“Hades was lonely; he ruled over Hell, you see, had done so for a few centuries, and heruled fairly over his subjects. Still, he longed for the company of someone else. He wanted Persephone to rule by his side, and he thought of the many different ways he could get her down to his kingdom. Soon, he understood the only way she could gain access to Hell was if she died; therefore, he waited for her to be away from her mother. One day, she was on a field gathering herbs with a few of her maiden friends. He conjured a serpent out of thin air and ordered it to bite her ankle. He waited in the shadows of the forest, and indeed, soon enough, Persephone fell prey to the serpent’s venom and fell in the field of wild flowers, as still as death itself.”

Riku frowned; he didn’t like it. It didn’t sound fair. It wasn’t how romances were supposed to go — one was not supposed to go to such lengths as killing the object of one’s affections so as to live by their side.

“When she awoke in hell, Persephone was not happy about the situation. She shunned Hades for months, for years — still, he behaved like a proper gentleman, brought her flowers every single day, sent minstrels and poets to sing her his love, and little by little, she learned to know him. Slowly, but surely, she fell for the king of hell and became his queen.”

Sora was already fast asleep; Riku’s mother smiled tenderly at him and tucked out a few strands of wild hair behind his ear. He seemed to lean into the contact.

“Persephone’s mother, though, was at the depths of despair. She’d lost her precious daughter, and as the goddess of harvest, she shunned all crops any human desperately tried to hold on to. In just a few years, the entirety of the world had become nothing more than a barren land of desolation, a desert in which the human race stood no chance of survival. Hell was soon overcrowded with victims of famine, and Hades finally came to understand that his actions had been a less than honourable. He met up with Demeter and managed to express both his remorse and his love for Persephone. Both gods came to an understanding: Persephone would spend six months of the year in Hades’ company as the rightful queen of hell, and the remaining months, she’d be by her mother’s side. Demeter’s spirits would then finally raise up in the time we have come to call Spring and Summer, and whenever her daughter is away from her, the earth falls prey to her curse of cold temperatures and the freezing of the soil — also known as Autumn and Winter.”

Kairi had fallen prey to slumber as well, and Riku was struggling to keep his eyes open. When finally his mother leaned down to kiss his forehead, he managed to grumble:

“I don’t like this story.”

And his mother replied:

“I’m glad you don’t.”

* * *

Sora’s eyes blinked open as he struggled to focus his vision on his surroundings — everything was a blur of different shades of grey forms in the distance. The ground was damp beneath his cheeks. Sand — it was sand, definitely sand, and he could hear the low rumble of waves all around him. 

 _I know this place,_ he thought, and he didn’t have to ponder it all for too long. The stench was almost unbearable. _The Realm of Darkness_ , he realised, and his mind became instantly alert. He rouse up and winced — something hurt, his head was throbbing and nausea twisted his insides treacherously.

“Shh, be still,” someone said, close, a little bit too close for his mind not to be fully alarmed. He jerked back from the hold the stranger’d had on him, and he winced up at the person. His stomach dropped — so did his jaw. Silver hair and piercing blue eyes.

“ _Riku?_ ” he blurted out, almost rudely.

It was him — it was definitely him, although he looked so different from whatever memory Sora had managed to keep of him. He grabbed Riku’s outstretched hands and held on to them as if his life depended on it.

“Sora,” Riku replied, his voice soft and almost shattered.

He looked almost afraid, afraid he might scare Sora off, afraid he might disappear if he dared even the slightest move towards him. Sora let out a shaky laugh and circled Riku’s neck with his arms, hiding his face in Riku’s hair. Riku reciprocated the hug a few instants later, although his movements were slow and shy.

It had been _ten_ _years_. Ten years of searching for his missing friend, grasping at whatever clue, whatever hint he could ever find of his whereabouts only to come back from his rescue missions empty handed, and finally giving in to the nagging thought that maybe, maybe, it had all been for nothing — that he’d been gone for too long, that it might be impossible to bring him back from wherever he’d ended up.

That he might—

“I can’t believe it,” Sora kept on rambling against his friend’s shoulder. “I can’t believe it, I — I would have never—”

“I’m sorry,” Riku said. “I’m sorry you couldn’t find me. You couldn’t have. I’ve watched your attempts, I’ve kept track of your whereabouts as much as I could, and I’ve never stopped believing we might — I’m _so_ sorry.”

“Were have you _been_?” Sora asked, finally letting go of his friend to look at him properly, to assess Riku’s wellbeing and state and marvelling at the traces time had left on his face. It had left its imprints on his forehead and his once so smooth and soft skin now looked coarse from years spent living in the harshest conditions. His hands were callused andholding onto Sora’s arms hard, as if he might flee if he’d ever be given the space to do so.

“Here. Right here. I’ve never— I’ve never left.” He smiled at that, a self depreciating smile that had Sora’s blood boiling in indignation.

“That’s not — you wouldn’t — I’ve explored _every_ corner of the Realm of Darkness. Several times. You weren’t there. I would have _known_.”

Riku pursed his lips, as if refraining himself from replying to Sora’s implied enquiries. He shook his head almost imperceptibly, looked away and let out a shaky laugh.

“I think — I think it would be best if I showed you.”

Sora frowned. “Showed me what?”

“Come with me. I dont — I wouldn’t — I want to give you the choice.”

And all Sora could do was frown, and slowly get up on his feet, grabbing at the hand Riku was holding out for him.

* * *

It was difficult not to stare — so Riku did just that. He stared at Sora for the entire trip, walking his friend along the twisted and layered paths of the Dark, down to the finest depths of the realm of which he was the only one left to know the way. Sora didn’t hesitate once; his steps had become more confident over the years, having finally gotten himself rid of the youthful insolence that had gotten him in such trouble back then. 

Although Riku’s heart had never stopped longing for his lost friend — his only friend, the one true love he’d ever cherished — he knew they were now virtual strangers. He couldn’t recognise Sora in that bland and discreet choice of clothing, in the complicated mane of hair his once rebellious spikes had turned into (were those braids? and dreads? and _beads?)._ Even his features now held a harshness to them that was somewhat unsettling. They’d both seen things, things they wished they could forget.

Riku did not miss the fact that Sora didn’t wear his crown pendant anymore.

It hurt more than he’d ever let himself admit.

* * *

“What the—”

Sora looked up at Riku, one eyebrow raised high so as to convey his utter disbelief at the scene presented before him.

Riku smiled sadly at him. “Welcome to my kingdom.” A pause, and Riku seemed to realise how dramatic he sounded, because he quickly added: “I guess. Sort of. Um.”

All Sora could do was gape at him as Riku lead him inside what Sora could only describe as a palace made entirely out of pure, perfect, pitch _dark_. Darkness itself, and the smell was almost unbearable, and probably would have been if Riku’s presence hadn’t kept the deadliest part of it at bay.

Sora could barely discern the contours, the edges of the walls surrounding them, but still, chandeliers were hanging out of the ceiling and casting decent lighting on the thankfully normal and luxurious furniture of the rooms. The silence was deafening and each one of their steps echoed violently throughout the entire palace.

“How — What — how come I never found this place?”

“Only I can come here.” Riku said, keeping a warm hand in that place in between Sora’s shoulder blades that had his skin crawling in anticipation. “And the heartless,” Riku added, as an afterthought.

“What,” Sora said simply, but still, he kept on walking, conscious that Riku didn’t want them to rush the explanations.

It didn’t mean his mind didn’t try to make sense of the entire ordeal, though. He kept reviewing all memories of the early times of Riku’s disappearance: Sora’s sudden, brutal return from the sleeping realm, when he’d thought he’d successfully traded his life for Kairi’s, only to find out Riku had done the same for him. He remembered Mickey’s harsh words, harsh affirmation that Riku had been lost for good, that it would be better for them all, for all Keyblade wielders, for the Realm of Light, if Sora finally moved on from his loss. He remembered Mickey’s shifty attitude, how the king wouldn’t meet his eyes, and the resulting distance Sora had put between them two, and finally Yen Sid and all those things he thought he’d ever stood for.

Kairi and him had looked everywhere, had forced Donald and Goofy to breach their king’s trust for crumbs of hints that had led absolutely nowhere.

And somehow, when Sora had finally given up on ever finding Riku in this mere plane of existence — he’d popped up right by his side. Effortlessly. Accidentally.

Riku finally stopped once they reached an absurdly immense dining room with a ridiculously long table at its center filled with such a profusion of food Sora’s stomach ached in anticipation of such a meal.

“Do not eat anything,” Riku advised him, and finally lead him to sit at his right. The silence was so thick Sora could hear both of their breathing, and Sora wondered for a few seconds how Riku could possibly take it — how could he have endured it for _ten years_ and still look so… well, so normal, when he knew for a fact Aqua had finally succumbed to the darkness.

And Aqua had one of the strongest hearts Sora had ever had the pleasure to meet.

 _This is Riku_ , he thought, and it all appeared very clearly to him — there was no match to Riku’s strength of heart. Had never been, and never would.

He’d take on an eternity in such a strange place and come back unharmed — only imperceptibly.

He could see Riku’s struggle for words, the way his eyes cast themselves in a rapid succession on the different objects adorning the room, and all Sora could do was smile at him encouragingly. Riku’s breathing was even more ragged than his, and Sora could feel the emotion transpiring either from his so terribly expressing features, or from the echo of his heart.

“I have summoned you,” Riku finally managed to utter, and the words were said in such a sharp manner Sora was surprised they’d not been an insult. “That’s the reason why you came here. It was not an accident. I could have chosen to show myself to you before, but I couldn’t, I wouldn’t let myself do that. I didn’t want — I didn’t want you to make a choice you’d come to regret, out of passion, out of emotions you’d be too young to process, to judge at face value. I’ve held back.”

“Riku,” Sora interrupted. “I wouldn’t have reacted differently bef—”

Riku chuckled at that. “Oh, yes, you would have. You wouldn’t have understood my choice, you would have been headstrong on finding a way to bring me back up there. The thing is, I can’t, and even if I could, I don’t know if I’d ever want to.”

Riku was the only thing holding out the deadly scent of Darkness — Riku had long before learned how to control his Darkness, to keep it at bay, to dose it with a sufficient measure of his own powerful light. Riku had not succumbed to the Darkness. He was not keeping himself in this place out of corruption.

“Why _are_ you here, then?” Sora asked, curiousness getting the better of him. “What is it that you do, that makes you want to stay in such a place?”

Riku shrugged. “Duty, mainly. And I’ve found a strong sense of purpose. I took on this role as a consequence of my choice — I traded my life in the Realm of Light for yours, and I have never regretted that choice. Not once.” He laughed then, and Sora couldn’t help but marvel at this once forgotten sound, and it hurt him how much he’d _missed_ it. “I’ve never been that much of a social butterfly, I think we can both agree on that. I haven’t really minded the loneliness. I’ve only — only ever missed —”

“Me,” Sora finished, and he could feel his own heart hammering at the word, because the opposite was just as true. Sora could only bloom in the presence of others, of friends and family, but Riku’s absence from his life had taken a toll he was only taking the full measure of now.

“I miss you,” Riku said, his hands moving as if of their own accord, as if there was something of an explanatory quality to those words. “I have missed you, every single day. I — I have a role to play. I keep up the balance. Mickey has bequeathed me with the Keyblade of Darkness, and I must remain here to keep it in check, to prevent it from overflowing over the other realms. There should always be a Keeper of the Dark. There hadn’t been in a long, long time. I cannot leave.”

Sora nodded — he’d heard rumours of this legend, a once forgotten myth he’d found references to in the numerous books he’d explored in his frantic search for his friend. He understood, and still, _still -_ he might have lost hope of ever seeing Riku again, he’d never completely lost the faith, and he’d always believed finding Riku would be enough. Never imagined finding him would equate to a goodbye.

His hand reached for a silver cup of wine — Riku’s voice rouse up clearly, frighteningly, and Sora startled, almost dropping it to the floor.

“Do _not_ eat _anything_ here. Not yet. Not —”

Riku’s cheeks were reddening and Sora’s breath quickened. He knew this look — had never thought he’d ever be graced with it again. Riku’s blinded love for him had once been his own precious beacon of hope and strength. His heart-rate quickened and Sora’s hand immediately went to grab his friend’s, fingers interlacing as he tried to convey encouragement through his gaze.

“The food here binds you to this place. You cannot properly exist in a place whose food has not bound you to its very ground, its very soil. As long as you do not eat, you will not truly belong to the Realm of Darkness. But if you did — if you chose to do so —” Riku inhaled deeply, and Sora could hear the fear in the shakiness of his voice. “You could. Stay here. Be unharmed by the stench of the dark, and most of its effects would not harm you. It would not have to be forever,” he quickly added, fumbling on his words and acting more flustered than Sora had ever seen him before. “You’d still belong to the light. _Especially you,_ Sora. You are _made_ of light. You could spend some time here, some time up there. If you’d like. I just — wanted you to know it is possible.”

“Six months in hell, six months on earth,” Sora murmured, eyes locked on Riku’s, his nail tapping lightly against the rim of his cup as he heard the echos of a long forgotten memory. “Like Persephone.”

Riku adverted his gaze.

“I’d be your queen of hell,” he added, almost teasingly, but he couldn’t help a sudden shiver of desire at hearing such words - such a blatant admission of their attraction to each other — being uttered out loud. His sudden craving of Riku’s touch almost took him by surprise: a compulsive need of feeling his arms running up his sensitive back, of losing his own fingers in Riku’s hair as their mouths explored each other’s and making up for a decade of lost opportunities — a scorching dance of tongues while they explored one another’s bodies —

Sora wanted to kiss Riku very much.

Six months in the dark were such a little price to pay.

He swallowed the content of the cup in one gulp, smiling at Riku’s sudden gasp of surprise, and quickly joined him on his chair for a reunion they’d never thought would finally come.


End file.
